


If It Fits..

by MissEmmanuelle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Flirting, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Lingerie, Photography, Teasing, sexual desire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14906024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissEmmanuelle/pseuds/MissEmmanuelle
Summary: Sansa needs a new job. Jon has a new client. Time to get to work, then.





	If It Fits..

**Author's Note:**

> Eventual smut will follow.
> 
> I am not the fic writer to go to if you're looking for plot. There are much better writers in the Jonsa tag who take the time to draft a plot, so check them out. Here, all I write (and want to write) is Jon and Sansa banging in a million and one ways and AUs.. so if that's not really your thing, well sorry mate. LOL
> 
> BUT..
> 
> If that's what you like - well, step right in my friend *pulls up a recliner for you*
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> Elle xxx (jonsaforlife/jonsa-creatives on Tumblr - come say hi!)

_Why? Why do bad things happen to good people??_

Sansa huffed as she flopped onto the nearest armchair the moment she arrived home. Rubbing her eyes, reeling from sheer exhaustion and barely any energy left to spare to remove her coat and boots; the thought of pulling another late shift the next few nights had her grunting in frustration. Frustrated and exhausted, not exactly what Sansa had in mind in starting off her first week at work.

“Hey Sans, are you home?” a sweet voice greeted her as Sansa reached down lazily to take off her boots. “Hey Marge, yeah. Sorry was I too loud?"

Margaery shook her head as she leaned against the wall, amused at Sansa sprawled out on the armchair still in her coat and with one boot on.

"Don't. Ask."

"Wasn't gonna," Margaery held up her hands in defence.

Sansa sighed loudly and finally removed her coat. " Ugh.. why? Remind me again why I have to work?”

“Because you’re a strong, independent woman and you don’t want to live off the trust fund your Dad has put aside for you?”

Sansa winced.  _Yes I wanted to prove a point,_  she thought. If Robb could do it, working and paying his way through college, so could she. Although, Robb actually  _had_  skills. 

 _Skills that made bank,_  Sansa thought wistfully.

Computers and numbers made no sense to her at all. And she couldn’t draw to save her life either. How Robb designed and created apps was just beyond her. In fact, nobody in the family knew Robb had it in him. Until investors came calling, courting Robb in buying over the development of his apps, that it became public knowledge. Soon, it was Robb the whiz kid that all the tech firms wanted a piece of.

_That sneak. Some people have all the talent, even my own brother. How annoying._

How she wished her talent in dressmaking and her fashion sense would rake in the bucks. Perhaps one day it would. Now it was just burning a hole in her small and worn purse. She blamed herself mostly, having a weakness for pretty things.

“Ugh.. Why does it have to be so hard? I wish I had actual talent that makes money so I don’t have to work at that bloody restaurant,” Sansa whined as Margaery sat beside her and offered her a sympathetic pout.

“Well, hang in there love, till something better comes along, I guess. And it will. Besides, come on babe, you love working there, great crew and you get to meet lots of people,” Margaery assured her. Sansa shrugged.

“Well, I do get to bring home free gourmet food.”

Sansa glanced at Margaery and they both burst into a fit of giggles. “And sample new wines too, which I love you for by the way. So don’t you dare quit,” Margaery wagged a finger at her, in between chuckles.

“Ahh, the things I do for friendship! All right. Fine! I love my job then,” Sansa conceded, glad that Margaery was always there to cheer her up when she had days like these.

“So.. hey, speaking of jobs. I may have one you might actually be really interested in,” Margaery said as she stood up to head towards the kitchen.

“Well whatever happened to ‘hang in there’? But yeah tell me anyway.”

“Well, it’s more like a gig, a one time thing and it’s for the new store that just opened at Southside and listen, I know you said you won’t do any modelling but Sans, I think you’re perfect for it!” Margaery gushed, almost squealing as she walked back to where Sansa was, with two well filled wine glasses in her hands. Sansa raised her eyebrows at her and took a sip of the glass offered.

_Well, if the money’s good._

“And what do I have to do? Please don’t tell me to audition for another commercial, which I am never doing ever again by the way! I forgive you for that but I won’t ever forget how I had to snog a melon. I can never look at a melon the same way again, thanks to you,” Sansa groaned with scowl. The last time Margaery offered Sansa ‘a new gig’ on behalf of the advertising firm she worked in, didn’t turn out as well as they both had hoped.

“Oh shut up, you know I had no say in the creative process and I had no idea you had to do that. I just do the planning and the coordination bit, you know that. But no audition this time, I promise. All you have to do is model some lingerie and take some photos. That’s it. And you still love melon, come on,” Margaery shot back.

_Lingerie?_

“Wait, just model them and that’s it? Do I have to be nude for this though?” Sansa peered at her best friend and flatmate, the gears in her head slowly working into overdrive. Margaery shook her head.

“Nope. No face shots, upper body and lower body shots obviously. And no nudity, well at least not the obvious kind. All I know is that it will be a closed set photo shoot. Just you, the set designer and the photographer. Plus we’ll get you to sign all the legal stuff so you got that covered. So what do you think? Are you in?”

“Hmm.. Well I do have to think about it. I mean it-”

“Sansa, you get paid 400 bucks sitting and posing in pretty lace and silk. Not bad for a couple of hours’ work, I reckon,” Margaery interrupted with her offer. That was it. Sansa didn’t mind it if it was just sitting and posing and getting paid four hundred dollars just for doing that.

“400? Holy shit! When do I start then?” Sansa had to laugh at herself at her lightning quick decision making skills when it came to clothes and earning money. Margaery smiled.

“Come by Sunday at 10 am. Castle Studios. I’ll text you the address.”

* * *

Sansa dragged herself out of bed, her throat parched and eyelids heavy. It had been another busy night at the restaurant and Sansa was glad it closed on Sundays. Sundays were for sleeping in and Netflix. Although not for heading out for a photo shoot at ten in the morning either. Sansa was sure no one sane would be up this early on a Sunday.

_Oh Marge. Why do I do this to myself, every bloody time?_

“400 dollars. 400 dollars. 400 hundred freaking dollars. And the photographer better be a hottie or a cutie, not some perv leering at me behind his lens,” Sansa psyched herself up out loud as she stood in the warm shower, trying to imagine herself as a lingerie model this time. It was a first.

Sansa hoped the white crisp shirt and bootleg jeans she had on were appropriate wear for meeting photographers and set designers and whoever she had to impress that day. To say she had no idea what she was doing, was an understatement.

_What do models wear to work? What do they talk about? Hell, what do I even say?_

90 Castle Road - Sansa glanced at her phone again to check if she had the right address. A large brownstone building greeted her as she pulled into the parking lot next to it.

_Looks like a mini castle all right._

Sansa checked her appearance in her rear view mirror once more and stepped out. She strode over a couple of steps from the parking lot and came to a large door with a few call buttons next to it. Sansa pressed the button next to a label that said ‘Castle Studios’. A loud click made her jump slightly as the door opened before her and Sansa entered.

The quiet street the building was on didn’t reflect at all the classy interior inside. The slick dark tiled walls had tasteful framed abstract paintings hung up along the hallway leading to the lift lobby and Sansa found herself thinking that perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as she had thought. Sansa smiled in relief and opened the glass door entrance of the studios. It was empty.

“Hello? Hi? I’m Sansa, I’m here for the lingerie photo sho-”

A loud clang followed by a loud expletive rang back at her. Sansa froze in her spot, a million and one 'worse-case scenarios' racing through her head. _Shit. Please don't be shady._ There was no one around the studio, even though it was brightly lit and the set appeared ready for a shoot.

"What the flying fuck!” the voice came again, this time more clear and somewhat moving out towards her.

“Wh.. Jesus!” a young man around her age appeared from behind a door and jumped, clutching his chest, seeing Sansa standing before him.

“Umm.. not quite. Sorry! Hi.. I’m Sansa. Here for the photo shoot? For Lace & Roses? I’m sorry but did I come to the wrong place because if I did, my apologies. Please excuse me,” Sansa scrambled through her introduction, painfully flustered and turned to leave.

_Sansa, you’re a fool, thinking this was easy money._

“No wait. Shit. Sorry for that, Miss! I was just distracted for a moment because I broke something that spilled all over some papers. But please stay, yes you’re in the right place!” the young man, with grey eyes in a dark t shirt and a crown of jet black curls, stopped her in her tracks and rambled an apology. Sansa heaved a sigh of relief and smiled apologetically.

“Start over? Hi, I’m Jon. And I’m your photographer for the shoot. Welcome to Castle Studios I guess,” Jon held out his hand and returned her smile. Sansa introduced herself properly this time. “Nice to meet you, Jon. I’m Sansa, your model for today, I guess. Nice studio by the way.”

_Well, at least he’s cute. Thank god._

“Well I guess, yeah, this is the studio and the set's all ready. So, I suppose let's get to it then? Do make yourself comfortable, Sansa. The screen is over there for you to change whenever you’re ready and the rack is there with all the erm.. clothes,” Jon pointed sheepishly to a large folding screen panel that stood in the corner, next to a clothes rack of what seemed like a collection of lingerie she would be posing in. Sansa watched how pink Jon was turning and couldn’t help but grin.  _He is cute AND adorable._

“And the dressing table is right there if you need to do your make up. Everything is set up already for you, so whenever you’re good to go,” Jon continued and cocked his head towards the white platform in front of them. Sansa nodded and headed towards the dressing table to check on her makeup. She hadn’t bothered to put on too much since she wasn’t expecting any face shots as Margaery had promised, but she had on enough to look presentable.

_A little mascara and gloss wouldn’t hurt._

“So Jon, shall I put my hair up or down? You know for the shoot?” Sansa turned and asked as she held up her hair for him as a visual cue. Sansa almost missed it but she could have sworn she saw a subtle lip bite.

“Uhh.. Down, better but we’ll see how it goes. I wasn’t given instructions regarding the hair. I’ll be taking photos from the neck down. Did they say anything to you?” Jon asked as he walked over to Sansa.

“No they didn’t state anything specific, just to do what the photographer says,” Sansa shrugged, looking at him from her mirror. His eyes that lingered on hers a few seconds too long made Sansa realise something palpable was in the air between them.

_Hmm, interesting._ _Weird. Must be nerves._

“Right then. So, do you want to get changed? The stuff is labelled so you know which ones to wear first. Like I said, whenever you’re ready,” Jon snapped back to his senses and walked back to his tripod.

“Sure, but Jon? Isn’t the set designer supposed to be here as well? And someone to help me with the stuff?” Sansa called out, cautiously eyeing around her once more. That was what Margaery had told her after she had dropped by the firm’s office to sign the consent and release forms a few days ago.

“Well, they had it set up yesterday. And they said the erm... clothes you’re wearing were simple enough to manage on your own,” Jon explained as best he could as he fiddled with his camera lens. He wasn’t quite sure what to tell her. That the set designer had quit at the last minute because she had a row with her boss? That he was given shoddy instructions to help the model with the lingerie if needed because the boutique refused to pay for a stylist AND a photographer? _Stupid clients._ What did he know about lingerie? As far as he was concerned, he never really had a girl wear one for him to experience what it was like. Lingerie is pretty, that much he knew on the subject. Jon only gave Sansa a half smile and a shrug and went back to setting up his camera.

“Right. Okay then. I guess I’ll go change.”

Jon nodded and Sansa felt his eyes follow her as she disappeared behind the panel to get ready. The thought gave her chills and she wasn’t quite sure why. Her nerves had never gotten her this way before. Sansa shook her head at herself.

_Get a fucking grip, you silly girl. It’s just a job._

The first one was a simple soft pink lace and chiffon ruffled camisole that hung just above her hip bone and Sansa put on the matching thong that it came with. She was thankful Margaery helped to fix an appointment with her beautician for the much needed waxing. The silky chiffon and lace felt divine on her bare skin. She could do this for a living, Sansa realised.

Sansa stepped into the stilettos labelled for her to wear. She took in a deep breath. She loved lingerie, especially the expensive ones made of silk, lace and chiffon but never in a million years would she have imagined wearing it for a complete stranger.

_400 bucks. It’s good money. It really is. Okay, let’s do this. How hard can it be?_

“Umm.. Jon? Where do you want me?”

Jon looked up from his camera and gulped. His jaw dropped. _Fuck... me. That... is just gorgeous._  Floored by the vision wrapped up prettily in pink lace and silk before him. Not to mention, barely incoherent as Sansa stepped out, hair stylishly up in a ponytail with pale creamy skin wrapped around curves he'd never seen on a woman with only bits and pieces of cloth barely covering them - looking awfully a lot like the redhead pin up girl of his dreams.

 _Damn it._ Jon tugged at his jeans discreetly. _Oh god.. This girl… This isn’t going to be easy at all._

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, they will fuck. A lot. 
> 
> That's it. That's the story lol
> 
> Stay tuned.


End file.
